Oh, How They Blossomed
by PotteringTribute
Summary: Scorpius and Rose have grown up hating each other. However, everything changes when Rose and Scorpius become Head Boy and Girl. A series of events will bring them closer together. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Oh, How They Blossomed: A ScorRose fanfic.

Chapter 1

Scorpius Malfoy:

I walk up the corridor in the Hogwarts Express, heading towards the Prefects' Cabin. I'm about to begin my Seventh Year at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as the Head Boy. I must admit, when I received my letter from Headmaster McGonagall about my invitation to become Head Boy, I was quite taken aback. I was expecting someone with a bit more knowledge, like Lorcan or Lysander Scamander of Ravenclaw, to be Head Boy. I gladly accepted the offer, and my father, Draco Malfoy, was happy that a Slytherin had finally been elected Head Boy.

I only hope that the Head Girl isn't who I expect it to be.

My green and black robes billow in the air as I speed-walk towards the Prefects' Cabin. I'm already wearing my robes, and I've even put my gold Head Boy badge proudly on display, pinned to the upper corner of my robes.

As I near the door, I hear voices, one of them particularly standing out to me. It's a higher-pitched, no-nonsense voice, and my heart sinks a little. _Weasley._

I throw open the door, plastering a smirk onto my face as everyone in the cabin turns to me in shock. Some of the female prefects' jaws drop. I raise my eyebrow at them, relishing the surprised looks on their faces. I'm the most good-looking boy at Hogwarts, and I know it. Nearly every girl in the school trips over each other on their way to class, trying to find me. All but one: the ever-so-charming Rose Weasley.

"Happy to see me?" I say in mock-happiness, my smirk growing wider as Rose Weasley's face turns a red that's even deeper than the color of her hair.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Weasley snarls, stalking towards me. "This cabin is for prefects _only."_

"And also the Head Boy, Weasley," I reply, pointing down to my Head Boy badge. Her face paling, she glances down at her Head Girl pin and stares back at my badge for nearly ten seconds.

"Oh, we'll have so much fun together!" I cry happily, running my fingers through my blonde hair. I can't help but give Weasley a once-over as she stands there speechless.

Wow, Weasley certainly has matured (physically) a lot since last year. During sixth year, she was the dork with frizzy, red hair and unusually large teeth. She was always seen clutching a book to her chest, running around from classroom to classroom.

But this year, Weasley's filled out quite a bit. Her skin is pale and smooth, and looks like porcelain. Her red hair, which was a frizzy mess last year, falls in gentle curls down her shoulders. Her slim body now has generous curves in all of the right areas, and her chest is bigger than before. She's still minuscule compared to me, though. She's about 5'2, maybe 5'3 in height, whereas I'm 6'2. Wow, Weasley's become quite the looker.

I smirk as she catches me glancing her over. Her cheeks turn red and she folds her arms over her chest. She sneers at me. "See something you like, Malfoy?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, Weasley," I reply casually, walking over to one of the plush couches and plopping down on it.

Her cheeks burn and she breathes in once, trying to contain her humiliation and rage. "All of you, we're almost to Hogwarts! Get your luggage and GET OUT!" she snaps angrily to all of the Prefects who have been standing by mutely this whole time.

I grin cheekily and stand up, levitating my luggage behind me. Weasley's carrying her suitcases, which causes me to laugh at her.

"Malfoy, we're not supposed to use magic outside of school!" she scolds me, pointing to my wand, which I carry lazily at my side.

"Oh, loosen your corset and have a Firewhiskey, Weasley!" I roll my eyes at her. She's such a goody-goody, no wonder she's Head Girl.

It takes Rose about ten times longer than me to reach the Head Dorm, which is where Weasley and I will reside for the next year. It's almost like a House Dorm, but smaller. It's got a password-protected portrait, a common room, and two small stairways to two bedrooms. Next to the common room is the bathroom, which I'll unfortunately have to share with Weasley.

Finally, Weasley stands next to me and says loudly and clearly "Hippogriffs and butterbeer." The portrait swings open, revealing a small common room with a couch, two chairs, a table, and a fireplace. Two staircases lead to two separate bedrooms.

I start up the one on the left, while Weasley takes the one to the right. I levitate my luggage into my room and walk in, admiring the large amount of space there is. Almost as soon as I walk in, green Slytherin banners roll down the walls and the bedsheets on my large canopy bed color themselves white and green.

I mutter a few charms, and my clothes unpack themselves and fly into the drawers of my dresser and also the closet. I wipe my hands off on my robes and decide to pay Weasley a little visit. I stride down the staircase and walk up Weasley's.

Her door is wide open and I can see the red Gryffindor color is splashed all over her room. She's unpacking everything by hand and currently holds a fistful of red underwear and is walking over to her drawer to put them away.

I chuckle and say, "Nice knickers, Weasley."

She stuffs her knickers into her drawer and whips around, drawing her wand. Her cheeks are a fiery red, and she's clearly embarrassed. It's quite funny, how modest she is. I wouldn't even bat an eye if Weasley walked in on me naked.

"Get OUT, Malfoy!" she thunders, using a spell to slam her door shut. I laugh as I walk away to get ready for classes. Perhaps this year will be more fun than I thought. Having the Weasley bitch around will certainly make things more interesting.

Six classes later, I walk to the Head Dorm and grin broadly as I spot Lysander Scamander waiting outside of my dorm.

I practically skip over to him, glad to have a distraction.

"How's it going, Scamander?" I ask him mock-politely. Lysander Scamander is the most popular boy in Ravenclaw, and he's got a reputation of being a party boy and player. There's even a rumor going around Hogwarts that he's raped some sixth and seventh year girls. I never really pay attention to that rumor, as it's most likely untrue.

Scamander is actually nearly quite the same as me, only less good-looking. I'm the handsomest boy at Hogwarts, except for maybe Albus Potter, Rose's cousin and best friend.

I've got the proud reputation of having slept with nearly every hot sixth and seventh year girl. The only few I haven't shagged yet are (obviously) Weasley, Lily Potter, and perhaps a few prudes. Even Dominique Weasley has succumbed to my gorgeousness.

"Screw off, Malfoy," Scamander replies, his fists clenched.

I laugh. "I'd rather not, especially considering you're outside of my dorm. Any reason in particular that you're here?"

"Actually, I'd like to speak to Rose Weasley, if she's got a moment?" he replies.

My eyebrows raise in confusion. Scamander, Ravenclaw's playboy, wants to talk to Weasley? I didn't even realize he knew she existed. I shrug and turn to the portrait, saying "Hippogriffs and butterbeer." The portrait opens and I walk in, followed by Scamander.

The sound of running water makes me turn around. "Actually, Weasley's in the shower at the moment. But I can get her if you'd like." I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively at Scamander.

"I'd love that, but no thank you," replies Scamander huskily.

"Well, I suppose you can wait for her out here," I concede. "But don't be surprised when she kicks you out."

Scamander shrugs and I walk up to my room and set my books down on my bed. I crack one open and am starting my homework when I hear the bathroom door open, and hear a girlish shriek.

I smirk as I listen in to their conversation. Obviously, Rose is embarrassed and keeps saying, "I'm so sorry!" I can practically see the glee in Scamander's expression at seeing Weasley in just a towel.

I manage to catch bits of their exchange. "get to know you better" and "out for a Firewhiskey" are two phrases that hit my ears. I get up and strain to hear Rose's reply.

"Of course, that'd be lovely!" Rose squeals happily. I cringe internally and roll my eyes.

Scamander thanks her and then leaves. I choose to walk casually down the stairs, glancing down at Weasley. Her red hair's dripping wet and she's wrapped in quite a short towel.

"So what did Scamander want?" I say, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

Weasley jumps and looks up. "_Lysander_ wanted to ask me out on a date to Hogsmeade," she responds nastily. She looks quite satisfied.

"Scamander wanted a date? With you?" I snort at the idea. "What'll you do, go to the bookstore and gossip over what Scamander's dad has recently published?"

She rolls her eyes at me, annoyed. "Shove off, Malfoy!"

"Dumb wench," I insult her as I walk up the stairs and slam my door shut.

I can hear Weasley swearing angrily as she storms off to her bedroom. I smirk in satisfaction. The next date for Hogsmeade is due to be in two weeks. I can't wait to see how Weasley's little "date" with Scamander turns out.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, How They Blossomed: A ScorRose fanfic.

Chapter 2:

Rose

Two weeks have gone by so quickly! Tomorrow's my date with Lysander Scamander, and I'm quite excited about it. We're going to Hogsmeade together. He wanted to go for Firewhiskey, but I told him I don't drink, so he said we could go to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer.

I've been finishing homework and studying for tests lately. Tonight I've got to patrol the halls with Malfoy, which I'm not looking forward to. Whenever we patrol together, he makes it his mission to make me miserable. Whether it's making fun of my looks (he especially likes to take a dig at my curves) or just being plain rude, Malfoy's always being mean.

I sigh and close my Charms book, relieved to have finished all of my homework. My weekend will be homework-free, thankfully.

I twirl on my heel and walk out of my bedroom, into the common room of the Head Dorm. Malfoy is already sitting there, wearing his Slytherin robes. He raises an eyebrow at me and smirks.

"It's about time, Weasley. You were nearly late."

I decide not to grace him with a reply and instead wordlessly walk out of the dorm. Malfoy follows, and we walk down the corridor side by side.

He's unusually quiet tonight. Usually he likes make notice of my frizzy hair or large teeth (which my Mum finally let me shrink over the summer), but he doesn't say anything.

We're down to the sixth floor, walking down the halls when he breaks the silence.

"So, you're going out with Scamander tomorrow, eh? Isn't he a bit of a playboy? Too badass for you?" Malfoy's lip curls a little and I roll my eyes frustratedly.

"What, Malfoy, are you jealous?"

"Jealous - of you? You're nothing but an ugly Gryffindor prude who no boy in our year noticed until you actually got decent-looking! You're worthless slag," Malfoy shoots back at me.

I feel tears fill my eyes and I blink rapidly. Taking a deep breath, I reply, "So are you saying I'm attractive?"

Malfoy looks disgusted. "The dirt on the bottom of my shoe is more attractive than you, Weasley."

"Prat," I mutter, trying not to look at him.

We walk in silence, and I reflect on what Malfoy's called me. Am I really a prude? Just because I'm a virgin doesn't make me a prude, does it?

Malfoy's certainly not a prude, that's for sure. He'll grab random sixth- and seventh-years for quick shags in between classes. Nearly every girl in the school wants Malfoy - except for a select few, including my cousin and close friend Lily Potter and I.

I shake my head. I'll never understand Malfoy's logic. I don't even know how he managed to become Head Boy.

We continue our patrol quietly, and when we finally finish and go back to the Head Dorm, I run up to my room and slam the door shut. I bury my head into my pillow, ecstatic that Lysander Scamander and I are going on a _date_ tomorrow.

I change into my pyjamas and slip into bed, dreaming about how wonderful tomorrow will be.

I wake up immediately remembering that this afternoon's my date with Lysander. I hop out of bed and race over into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me.

I'm about to jump into the shower when there's a knock on the portrait, and I remember that I've recruited my cousin Dominique to help me get ready. See, Dominique's gorgeous, and she's the most beautiful girl in Ravenclaw. She's like the female version of Lysander. She even dated Lorcan, Lysander's twin brother, at one point. They were the 'it' couple of Ravenclaw, until Dominique broke up with him, leaving him heartbroken. Now she's got a thing for Malfoy, which, frankly, I don't understand at all.

"Rosie!" Dominique squeals as soon as the portrait swings open. She hugs me tightly and whispers in my ear "You look great!". Honestly, Dominique acts like she hasn't seen me in a year, when she saw me in class yesterday.

She pulls back and her eyes flit around. I stomp my foot frustratedly, as I know she's looking to see if Malfoy's up.

And then, almost as though it's planned, Malfoy emerges. He's wearing a rumpled gray t-shirt with checked pyjama pants, and his white-blonde hair is disheveled in a rather sexy way. _Wait. I didn't just say that Malfoy's hair looked sexy, did I?_

Malfoy grins at the sight of Dominique. No one can deny that she's beautiful. Her long blonde hair cascades down her back. Her face is angelic and innocent, but it hides her devilish personality.

"Hello, Scorpius." Dominique juts out her hip and flips her hair over her shoulder.

"Morning, Dominique. You're looking good today," Malfoy says leeringly, glancing his eyes up and down Dominique's body. I can't help but sneak a look at what Dominique's wearing today.

And she does look good. She's wearing jean shorts with a blue halter top and beige wedge heels. Her hair is wavy today, creating a halo around her head.

I can't help but compare myself to her. I look down. I'm wearing gray terrycloth shorts with a red Gryffindor t-shirt. My red hair is frizzy and untamed.

"Hmm hmm." I clear my throat and Malfoy and Dom break eye contact. Dominique glares at me, but quickly regains her composure.

"Oh, right. I've gotta go help Rosie get ready for her date. See you around, Scorpius." Dominique winks and waltzes into the bathroom. I catch Malfoy's eyes staring at her arse and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Stay away from my cousin, prat," I hiss at him. I stalk away into the bathroom, where Dominique is waiting with her makeup case.

"Rose, have you even showered yet?" she says, annoyed.

"No," I mumble apologetically. Dom huffs impatiently.

"Well, hurry up!" she snaps, and I literally jump into the shower and shed my clothes as quickly as possible. I hurriedly wash my hair and then hop out, clad in a cotton towel.

"All right, now let's get to work on your hair," Dominique says. She performs a few complicated charms, and then my hair is perfectly straight. It falls past my shoulders, and I must admit, it actually looks attractive this way.

"Now, for your outfit!" Dominique continues, pulling out a large bag she'd brought with her. She opens it and I peer inside.

Inside is a lacy red shirt with jeans and black wedges. I groan.

"Dom, you _know _that I can't walk in heels!" I moan unhappily.

"But don't you see? The red shirt - because you're in Gryffindor!" Dominique says excitedly, unaware of my reluctance.

I roll my eyes and she starts working on my makeup.

In about twenty minutes, I emerge looking like (in my own opinion) a trashy sixth-year Gryffindor that's had too many Firewhiskies. My makeup is overdramatic and _way_ too dark, but that's Dom for you. Plus, I can barely walk in these shoes, and my shirt is so lacy it's nearly see-through!

"But you don't look trashy!" Dom replies when I begin to argue with her. "You look sexy - the shirt gives a little peek-a-boo. Plus, you're wearing a lacy bra underneath, so you're all set." She winks at me and I internally smack myself.

"But Dom, I don't want to get laid!" I nearly cry out in frustration. "I just want to have a nice date, is all!"

Dominique rolls her eyes. "Rosie, you look hot. Just go with it!"

Malfoy chooses then to emerge from his room. He's wearing jeans and a green t-shirt. His eyes land on me and I can almost see his eyes popping out of their sockets.

Oh Godric. I really shouldn't have let Dominique get me into a push-up bra when I've already got C-cups.

I decide to be a little sarcastic. "Like what you see, Malfoy?" I raise an eyebrow and stick out my ass a little.

"Well, Weasley, it's certainly an improvement," he smirks. Godric, is that all he knows how to do? Smirk?

"I'm glad I got the Malfoy seal of approval," I sneer. "I suppose it's good when Death Eater spawn stamps me as approved."

Malfoy's expression goes hard and his gray eyes glaze over. "I never said I approved, Weasel. I said it was an improvement - if you're going for the prostitute kind of look."

Dominique laughs and flips her hair and I want to slap her. So I giggle over exaggeratedly and flip my hair too. "Well!" I say over excitedly. "I know you like prostitutes, Malfoy. Considering you practically raped half of the female population of Hogwarts." I giggle and hop away until I get outside, where I storm away angrily.

"Rosie!" I can hear Dominique calling me, but I'm far too angry to reply. My face must be as red as my hair right now, and I take a deep breath and try to calm down. Lysander said he'd meet me in the courtyard, so I walk down there.

It's a few minutes until Lysander shows up. He's wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, which shows off his muscles. He's got a black leather jacket slung over one shoulder, and my heart sinks when I see at least three hickeys covering his collarbone and neck. Now, not only was he with another girl, but anyone who sees us together will think I gave him them!

I sigh and get up as he reaches me. "Hello, Lysander," I greet him, but he seems far too interested in checking out my breasts and arse to reply.

"Well, let's go then!" I feign cheeriness as we begin to walk away. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Malfoy walking inside of the castle, watching us.

I grab Lysander's hand and place it on my arse. He seems pleased enough.

I look over and wink at Malfoy, who glares daggers at me.

"To the Three Broomsticks," I say, satisfied. Lysander nods and pinches my arse.

I try not to yelp and can't help but wonder if this was a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

**Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! I love knowing that people actually read my stories - it makes me so happy!**

**Leave a review, they keep me writing! :D**


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